The Choice is Ours

The mysterious resident has eagerly been waiting at every visit.  She has never missed a date and sits quietly in the background waiting patiently for my attention.  She looks younger than most at Eagle Crest. I have often wondered why she lives there.

 

This lady pets my back and ears so gently. It seems as if she does not belong. Could it be a mistake? Humans do make them! Why isn't she living a life in a house in the country with a garage, family, kids, and dogs? She does not speak much, but her presence tells a story. A story about how quickly life can change at any stage. How does life move on after a sudden change at such a young age? Us dogs don't really understand that concept because we live in the moment. When I think about it, people in nursing homes live in the present much like us dogs do. Maybe this is why they appear to be so melancholy.

 

During our last visit, she was sitting in a chair by a table. For the first time, she jumped up and dashed over to us as we entered the gathering space and quickly offered a big hug. The woman was extra happy to see us and actually initiated conversation with us breaking her silence. There was a glimpse of excitement in her eyes. We discovered more about her as she conversed about her three sisters. We listened attentively. A story of blows that life offers and of acceptance of the consequences. We all have them. The only choice is to make the best of all situations and peacefully find a way to adapt. 

 

It was a special visit because she was breaking the recognition barrier. We savored that moment because there is no guarantee that we will encounter this experience again.  It was hard to say goodbye that day. We left discovering a little more about her and even more concerning life. The difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is how we use them. It is our choice.